Time Finds a Way
by Story Please
Summary: Severus Snape decides that he needs to get back to the past, but when all other conventional avenues are out of his reach, he decides to experiment on his own method using his penchant for spell creation and his undying desire to see Lily alive and whole once more. But when his experiments are successful, he finds that there is more to going back if one can never go forward again.


Author's Note: Written for Finals Round 1 for Season 6 of the QLFC

Finals Round 1: **Theory of Relativity**

Team: Pride of Portree

Position: Captain

Captain's Prompt: Multiverse (changes in the past cause an entirely new timeline to be created).

Word Count: 2,991

Beta Love: Hearty thanks to Crochetaway, Litfreak89, and Ebenbild

Additional Author's Note: This story is completely AU- multiple AU, in fact. The way that I read this prompt is that there is a "canon universe" and that time travel within that canon universe's time stream will automatically create a "branch" with a new universe on it- one in which the time traveler made their trip. Also note that I am reading this prompt as the fact that a different universe's time stream might also have slight differences from the canon universe as well. Kudos to my Hufflepuff Husband for letting me wake him up at stupid o'clock in the morning and talk ad nauseam about how this sort of universe/timeline structure would work!

* * *

 **Time Finds a Way**

 _ **Entry 1**_

 _ **November 1, 1981**_

 _The unthinkable has happened. She is gone, and it is all my fault. Albus tells me that I must protect the boy, all the while refusing to tell me where the child is located other than "he is safe." As though I am supposed to wait until he comes to school after Albus' machinations corrupt him until all that's left is his stupid father's cocky grin. I cannot allow that to happen._

 _As if it isn't bad enough, the old man is adamant that the Dark Lord will return._

 _Not if I have anything to say about it._

 _I have begged Albus for the chance to use one of the Time-Turners located in the Hall of Mysteries, but he refuses to acquiesce to my request. He tells me that they're clamouring for me to be sent to Azkaban, and though I shudder at the thought of being fed upon by Dementors, I can't argue that I don't deserve it. It is true that I don't deserve my freedom, that I don't even deserve to live. And more often than not, I think that I should not have been born at all._

 _But I can still be useful. I know I can be. Thus, this secret notebook, which will be rendered illegible and appear at first glance to be a book of first year potions unless my cipher charm has been applied, will serve as the full and true record of my experiments._

 _As of today, I, Severus Tobias Snape, vow that I shall develop a method of traversing the space-time continuum for the express purpose of removing the threat of Voldemort from this world forever._

* * *

 _ **Entry 2**_

 _ **November 2, 1981**_

 _Albus thinks that I've been grieving. Little does he know that the bags under my eyes are a permanent feature. A little Wildeye Potion is a Potions Master's best friend, and I've always maintained that there will be plenty of time for me to rest when I'm dead and gone._

 _So far, I've come up with little information from the school library, including the Restricted Section, and of course, my access to the Stacks at the Ministry has been revoked due to Lucius' indictment. I don't doubt the man will worm his way out of his troubles in time, but I know better than to add to his burden, especially now that he has a child of his own to think about. Still, one never knows when one's old contacts will be needed again._

 _There is another colleague at Durmstrang—Karkaroff. His headmaster is disparaging of the Ministry's limited bureaucratic power. I shall owl him tonight after the sun has set and see if he can offer anything of note for me. I also know of his own little betrayals—the tidy little wife and child he has hidden up in the north where the Dark Lord never had the patience to visit. Surely, he too understands the delicacy of his position were the Dark Lord to return. Still, as always, I shall merely posit this as an academic request, with a hidden message of hope for his safety against those mongrels in the Auror's office._

 _She isn't gone forever. This is merely a temporary setback. I must believe this because the alternative is unbearable._

* * *

 _ **Entry 12**_

 _ **December 21, 1981**_

 _Finally, the majority of the students have left for the holidays, and I am left mostly to my own devices. Though I still do not sleep more than a few hours a night, I find myself awash with time in which to read and notate my thoughts._

 _Drellingsworth has several promising ideas in his 1832 journal, "_ _ **On Timey-Wimey Things**_ _." See my notes below for more on this theory. While his methods are crude (the idea of punching a hole in the universe and creating a "tunnel" to the past), the magical theory is fairly sound. The problem is that the longer that hole is open, the more prone it is to collapsing, which tends to be instantly fatal to anyone traversing along it. This is also how his assistant, a chap named McMurbles, found himself erased from reality without anything to show for it._

 _Of course, it's always possible that McMurbles found his way back to the past at some point before recorded history could be placed, and Drellingsworth says as much in his dedication poem._

 _Still, more testing is required for me to attempt to do the same._

 _Lily...I will not fail you._

* * *

 _ **Entry 19**_

 _ **January 9, 1982**_

 _Set up a small experiment today with a mouse after the disaster last Friday (see Entry 17 and the first half of Entry 18 for details). This time I have thoroughly ensured that the mouse I am using is, in fact, an actual mouse and not a transfigured matchbox. I have also taken the liberty of removing the creature's fur and transfiguring clothing to its size and shape. Cracksby (_ _ **On Time, 1912**_ _) says that clothing must be accounted for, or time travel will only transport the wearer and nothing else, leaving one's modesty in the present. I intend to avoid that particular problem. Also, will need to account for my wand, but I already have a few potential ideas for that as well._

 _My Mark has faded, but I keep feeling twinges from time to time, and it's already cost me a few sheets of paper._

 _Note to self: will need to take the residual Dark magic into account when calibrating for human transport._

* * *

 _ **Entry 20**_

 _ **January 19, 1982**_

 _Have sent through three mice each day. Only one has returned, but it has only raised more questions. First off, the little robes it wore upon reappearing in the chalk circle were an entirely different colour, and it appeared to have the number "306" written on its back in handwriting that appears to be far more elegant than mine. Upon further inspection and practice, I was able to mirror the numbering almost exactly, but it proves nothing conclusively. It also remains to be seen why a number I have not yet sent has appeared, though perhaps it is my future self doing so. More study is warranted before I can draw any conclusions._

* * *

 _ **Entry 35**_

 _ **March 12, 1982**_

 _The mice are reappearing as expected almost every day now, due to a number of tweaks in the runic coil in the chalk platform (see next page for detailed diagram). It is time for a slightly more complex creature. I am certain that the headmaster will be cross with me, but I have commandeered one of the Hogwarts House Elves. Nobbler is the most obnoxiously enthusiastic creature I've ever had the misfortune to meet, and it has been my unhappy duty to train him to use a camera these past few weeks. Though he is intelligent enough to do as I command, I am getting tired of having to order him about to get anything done at all._

 _Nobbler's innate magical core will also serve as a good test for my eventual travel. I may be reckless, but I am not willing to throw my life away for nothing. Oddly enough, the only thing he has been adamant about is his refusal to wear the clothing I have created for the experiment. I vaguely remember reading something about clothing and house elves in History of Magic, but surely I would not be considered his master if he belongs to Hogwarts? Will have to file that thought away for later._

* * *

 _ **Entry 45**_

 _ **April 1, 1982**_

 _Time travel is an exercise in infinite frustration. Have successfully sent back Nobbler once a week, but each time he returns, he refuses to respond to his name and has corrected me by requesting that I call him something else in as many times as he has disappeared from the departure circle and reappeared in the return circle. Otherwise, he seems much the same, though his return times are erratic and unpredictable. I am glad that I worked in the Containment Charm to keep him from escaping upon returning, but will have to remove it for my own maiden voyage. The photos are also a source of frustration. While Nobbler swears up and down that he has seen Voldemort on his travels, none of the photos develop. Using magic and charms are similarly unsuccessful._

 _Nobbler has most recently requested that I call him "Flobbler." These changes will be noted in future diagrams in order to stop his incessant whining._

 _If all goes well, I expect my inaugural test of the system to commence first thing after summer break starts._

* * *

 _ **Entry 67**_

 _ **January 2, ?**_

 _I was horribly, horribly wrong. About everything._

 _I'm sorry, Lily._

* * *

 _ **Entry 68**_

 _ **January 4, 1943**_

 _It's taken me a couple days to write this entry. I nearly took my own life and would have likely succeeded were it not for my mum, or rather, Eileen._

 _I need to start from the beginning, though, or I fear I shall go mad. A fair warning in advance: this will be a long entry._

 _Albus nearly found me out. I received a long-winded lecture about Albus' damned "greater good" and had to fight against rolling my eyes at his assurance that his grand plans would win us the war. He was at least kind enough to tell me that he'd scheduled a deep cleansing of my quarters first thing in the morning._

" _Dark magic isn't good for you Severus," he'd said, smug as always. "Think of this as some much-needed summer cleaning."_

 _And yes, I made sure to write that down the moment I was out of that smug bastard's office to ensure that everyone in the future knows the lengths that Albus Dumbledore will stoop to in order to thwart progress. I am nothing if not meticulous._

 _And so this is how I found myself making a few final tweaks to the circles and readying myself for my trip._

 _The plan was to appear, cast the_ _ **Avada Kedavra**_ _as quickly as possible, and then either be struck down or somehow hop back to my time. Either way, my plan would have worked. The only problem is that I did not anticipate how my larger mass would affect the mechanism in the runic coil. Instead of being thrown back to the late sixties or early seventies when the Dark Lord was a nobody with a ridiculous scheme, I was thrown back further. I also overcorrected my movement in space and appeared five feet off the ground, landing heavily on top of a student named Tom Riddle. He was casting Morsmordre in the Forbidden Forest. According to him, it was simply honest curiosity on his part that had led him to copy down a list of spells that seemed interesting in order to test them. At least, that was his explanation, and my attempt at legilimency was rudimentary at best. Riddle is powerful, but I cannot simply murder someone without evidence, and my knowledge of the Dark Lord's early years is fuzzy at best due to Albus' stubborn refusal to tell me anything._

 _Runesmith (in her 1924 book_ _ **Traversing the Timestream**_ _) repeatedly cautions the reader against being seen by or speaking to a person from the past. However, nothing appeared to change. There was no great shuddering sound as the universe came off the rails. I simply had a conversation with a young, charming man who would have been thick as thieves with Lucius given half a chance._

 _Unlike myself, Riddle is handsome and popular, but he was very intrigued by my Death Eater mask and robes, which I had been wearing on the off chance I found myself in a room of other Death Eaters. We had quite the conversation about dark magic, and it is obvious that he is as much a fan as I am. When I mentioned that I was fuzzy on the year after having bumped my head, he said that it was 1943 and suggested that he would take me to the infirmary to be checked. I pretended to stumble, and when he leaned forward to keep me from falling, that's when I_ _ **Obliviated**_ _him, hid my mask, and transfigured my outer robes into a traveling cloak. When he finally came to, I explained that the spell had been a dud and that he'd hit his head. He gave me a strange look and asked my name. Thinking fast, I told him I was a former student come to visit my cousin, as I also knew that my mum's extended family's presence in Britain was massive at this point in time._

 _When I asked about the nearly deserted castle on our trip down to the Slytherin common room, I learned some disturbing things. Apparently, students have been going missing all year. Many have left the school until the staff can get down to the bottom of it. I am almost certain that the Dark Lord is behind it. I have my reservations about Riddle, but so far, other than his ability to block my terrible legilimency skills, I doubt a genocidal dictator lies behind his charming smile._

 _Of course, anything is possible._

 _When we got back to the Slytherin Common Room, he introduced me to my mum; thirteen-year-old Eileen Prince. Her hair is longer and she keeps it braided, but other than that, we could almost be twins._

 _It wasn't until I found myself sitting between them that my attention was drawn to the item in question. Across from where we sat hung a large, ancient tapestry woven hundreds of years ago with enchanted silks said to be invulnerable. Supposedly, it was created to commemorate the creation of the Sacred Twenty-Eight I must have walked past it a thousand times._

 _A house elf had just handed us all a cup of steaming tea when I saw it; instead of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, there were over two hundred names running down the tapestry, each with unique house crests displayed. But what I noticed next made me drop my tea on the stone floor with a terrible clatter._

 _There, in the center of the family surnames and crests in silvery green was a familiar word I least expected to see: Snape._

 _Suddenly, a hundred small things in my experiments made a chilling sort of sense that I had never thought were related until that very moment._

 _As a boy, I would often fish old comic books out of rubbish bins when I was loitering around in nicer neighborhoods looking for things to salvage. One of the "weird science" comics had a story about alternate universes; about how there are infinite worlds where everything we do now is being done in an infinite number of ways, and that anything that can happen in any given moment has a universe in which that very thing is happening._

 _So of course, mice with odd coats make sense if another universe's Severus is sending them. A house elf who constantly calls himself by a new name makes sense if the house elf in question is replaced by another elf in another universe._

 _Hastily, I Vanished my mess and asked if I could use the toilet. They stared at me as though I were a madman. I couldn't blame them; my hand was gripping my wand so tightly that my knuckles had gone white._

 _I locked myself in a stall and pulled out the chalk from my pocket, shakily drawing the circle and appropriate runic coils. Then, I stood in the middle of it and activated the sequence._

 _Nothing._

 _I tried again, hastily revising and thickening the lines in vain. I am ashamed to admit that at that moment I began to panic with the realization that there was no returning home. When it was an academic exercise it was easy to accept, as was the thought of my death. There was, perhaps, a Severus who left this world from somewhere to find himself in my shoes. Or perhaps I have vanished, never to return. But I know now that there is no way to change the past. There is only a universe where I cannot tell what will happen next, for every second takes me further from the universe that I know._

 _There are a few things that I have learned thanks to Eileen and Tom, who have been friends since he saved her from bullies in her first year. They, along with a few other students, have been investigating the disappearances. Apparently, there's a Gryffindor named Gaunt who seems to disappear whenever an incident occurs._

 _Their friend Myrtle is working on a tailing charm, which was why Tom was testing out a number of obscure spells from the Restricted Section. Apparently, whatever is causing the disappearances is also causing the spiders to flee from the castle. I seem to vaguely remember something about spiders in my studies, but the answer escapes me._

 _Mum...er...Eileen...took me aside after Tom left to see Myrtle. She told me that she just knew that her cousin Severus had succeeded in his time travel attempt. Of course, at this point, I was still badly shaken, and I blurted out far too much. Somehow, I both fit in this timeline and also feel completely out of sorts. Eileen immediately asked Slughorn to allow me to stay in one of the empty dorm rooms for the night, and from the way he fell over himself to accommodate her, I could tell that the Prince family is fairly powerful in this universe._

 _It still feels strange to say that. "This universe." I've known no other but the one I was born into, and yet I feel like this might be an opportunity I never expected._

 _There's just one thing about all of this that worries me._

 _Today, I asked Eileen about Albus Dumbledore._

 _She nearly screamed because as she explained to me afterwards..._

 _Speaking his name aloud is forbidden._


End file.
